


Carvings

by thescavalry



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Agents of SHIELD, F/M, Melinda May - Freeform, Philinda - Freeform, phil coulson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 10:42:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7433532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescavalry/pseuds/thescavalry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil is both confused and scared over the carvings he's been doing, so he goes to Melinda for comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carvings

The butt of the knife was gripped tightly in his hand, blade out, as he stood at her door. Distraught, Phil fell to his knees, free hand banging at Melinda’s door until she opened up. Once she did, her eyes were looking forward until she saw the figure on his knees at her feet. 

“I need help. I don’t know what’s happening to me.” Phil said, his voice not at his usual more clear, confident tone. Melinda’s eyes only widened and she helped him stand, guiding him into her room and shutting the door quickly after, hoping no one saw him.

“Phil?” Melinda asked, worried. She had never seen him like this. Her eyes scanned his features. He looked like he had been fighting sleep. He was sweating, the top of his shirt was unbuttoned, and his tie was loosened, as if it had been strangling him. She looked down and noticed he was barefoot, and spotted the blade gripped tightly in his hand, so tightly his knuckles began to turn white. 

“Phil…” Melinda tenderly spoke, reaching over to his hand to remove the blade. He looked back into her eyes, so lost, her heart nearly shattered. “Talk to me.” Please.

“I-” Phil began, not moving an inch. He felt her fingers wrap around his hand, and he tensed a bit, realizing he still had the blade and dropped it. Phil fell to his knees soon after, Melinda’s arms reaching out to steady his stance, but being too late to stop his fall, so they settled on his shoulders. 

“Something’s wrong with me. I did something wrong. I’m turning into Garrett.” He was speaking so fast and assuming so much, Melinda barely had the time to let the words sink in before she felt him press his face into her stomach, then felt his shaking hands rest at her hips. 

His fingers were gripping her so hard she was sure there would be bruises, but she didn’t pry him off. She gave him a moment before gently laying a hand at the side of his head, causing him to release a warm, steady breath. 

“Is it the nightmares, Phil? What happened?” She tried again, after giving him a moment to stop shaking. 

He shook his head, never removing his face from her stomach. “No.. worse.” He muttered, fingers softening their grip on her hips. 

Melinda gently made it known she was going to kneel down so they’d be eye to eye, and he didn’t protest. His hands never fell off her as she came down, and she kept her own on his shoulders. 

“Talk to me.” 

“Carvings..” Phil said silently, detesting the word. “After… after I saw Garrett's carvings, something happened. It changed me. They gave me an urge.. To do it myself. It happened twice… I didn’t tell you because I figured it was a one time thing,” he took a moment and Melinda watched him swallow and compose himself. “My entire wall is covered. It’s covered with something I need to get out, but don’t understand.” And then he finally looked back at her, and Melinda had no idea what to say.

He should of come to her first thing. He should have come to her when he started. She had told him multiple times she’d have his back through everything. Now wasn’t a very good time to scold him, though. The look in his eyes forbid her to do so. He looked so tired. She had seen him tired, but this was another stage of it. He hadn’t been getting sleep for at least a week. 

“How long?” Melinda asked, careful not to trigger him anymore, although she doubted she would. He seemed to calming down the more she spoke. 

“Two weeks. I started carving two weeks ago. I fought it for about seven days, and I no longer could.” Phil was clearly scared. And she hated seeing him like this. 

Nodding, she stood up and held out a hand. He took it slowly, and she pulled him up. Phil was standing so close to Melinda, and he still hadn’t let go of her hand. She was the only thing keeping him from falling apart tonight. 

“You can sleep in here, okay?” Melinda spoke softly, nodding towards her bed. He closed his eyes a moment and nodded his head, then turned around and headed towards it, her hand on his back the entire time.

Once he sat down onto it, Melinda moved up to him to remove his tie fully, and set it aside. 

“You’ll be okay, alright? I’ll be beside you. We’ll figure this out together. That’s why I’m here.” Phil only nodded in response and she could see he was actually going to allow her to take care of him tonight. And that was relieving. 

“Don’t leave, please.” Phil spoke, almost catching her off guard as he laid on his side, his eyes locked onto her. Melinda sat on the other side of the bed, looking back at him and nodded. 

“I promise you, I won’t.”

And she laid down next to him, not taking her eyes off him until he finally closed his and fell into a deep slumber. Even then, Melinda kept watch over him until her own eyelids refused to stay open. 

She eventually fell asleep, the feeling of worry filling the pit of her stomach.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I wanted to get back into fanfiction writing so I wrote this. Tips and advice or whatever else would mean a lot to me. I hope you enjoy this fic.


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